The Dance
by Jennifer Lynn Weston
Summary: AU. When shipmates Jack, Will and James accidentally violate a tribal taboo, they must take unusual steps, so to speak, to make amends. PG for a bit of artistic nudity. Inspired by justawench's manip, 'Worship.'


_"Pirates of the Caribbean" belongs to Disney_

_This story was inspired by justawench's excellent manip, 'Worship'._

xxx

"We have to _what?"_

"Dance. Move rhythmically to music, using prescribed or improvised motions and steps. Province of the muse Terpsichore."

"I know what the word means, Sparrow!" Norrington snapped. "Just why are we expected to do such a thing?"

"As a offerin', ta make up for our earlier trespass." Jack spread his hands appeasingly. "The folks on this island are really quite civilized, compared with certain of theer neighbors. Most of those would require some kind o' blood sacrifice ta appease their gods. We've had the good luck to fall among 'savages' who believe dance is pleasin' to the powers-that-be." The pirate looked to his other fellow captive. "I wouldn't imagine you'll have any trouble with this, Will. It won't be that much different from one of yer three-hour sword practices."

William Turner was more puzzled than indignant. He glanced towards the entrance to their prison hut, where the tall, stern priestess stood glaring at them from under her feathered headdress. He found her uncomfortably reminiscent of a very strict school marm he'd once known.

"Jack, did you explain to her we had no idea that beach was off-limits on that particular day? That we only came ashore to fetch some water?"

"Of course I did, whelp. 'Tis why she's willin' ta make an allowance fer our ignorance an' accept this quite-moderate act of penance. No parts taken off, no exorbitant ransom ta be paid. All we haveta do is make some o' those 'rhythmic movements' on the beach fer a while tonight. Then they'll return our boat an' we can be on our merry way."

Will nodded acceptingly. Norrington, still scowling, stared at the tightly woven walls of their 'prison'. Not impossible for three determined men to get through, actually. But, as he himself had pointed out, there was little point in doing so unless they could also gain access to their longboat, which was presently being guarded by several very large spear-bearing men. There was no realistic chance of retrieving it without risk of serious injury, or worse. And so he'd urged Jack, who had passing command of the native language, to try to negotiate their release instead.

Admittedly, he hadn't anticipated an outcome such as this.

"This does have to involve all three of us?"

"Aye. As many of us as set foot on the volcano goddess' sacred beach right after the dark o' the moon."

"I don't suppose they'll be satisfied with a minuet."

"No, 'tis got ta be the same sort of dancin' the natives do. The good news bein', it's largely improvised, so no one'll be takin' off points fer missteps. Shall I tell Madame Feather Duster we're all willin'?"

Norrington sighed. This was damnably undignified, but the pirate was correct- making a fool of himself for a few hours wasn't that high a price to pay, compared to other possibilities he'd been pondering. "Yes, tell her that."

Jack returned to the doorway, where he spent a few minutes in animated conversation with the priestess. They concluded their discussion with a vigorous tapping of wrists- the local equivalent of a handshake- and the dark woman turned and left, her fringed shift swinging purposefully.

Jack swaggered gleefully back to his companions. "Okay, mates, the deal is set. We just get a few hours of exercise after sunset this eve, an' leave in the mornin'. Not that much different from attending a ballroom reception."

But his gold-edged smile showed just a trance of strain. Noticing this, Will inquired, "What else, Jack?"

"Whatdaya mean, 'what else'?"

"There's something you haven't told us." James, having likewise read the signs, added his glare to Will's.

Sparrow tried to shrug casually. "There is jus' one little stipulation. In order to afford the greatest viewing pleasure to the offended goddess, we'll be, well, preformin' this dance in a state of undress." At his companions' appalled expressions, Jack hastened to add, "I did negotiate the original demands so's we can wear their version of smallclothes, if we really prefer. But nothin' on above the hips, nor below the thighs."

"You actually expect us to... ?"

Sparrow abruptly assumed the tone of a Captain barking orders on deck. "Mr. Norrington, stop whinin' like a spoiled debutante! I seem ta recall that just a few hours ago, you were expressing concern that our captors might be plannin' ta serve us up as a main course, which would've very likely been the case on some other islands hereabouts. We're gettin' off easy! So don't be thinkin' of backin' out now- there's steep penalties here for breakin' accords!" Somewhat less harshly, Jack added, "You can always close your eyes an' pretend it's a bad dream."

James opened his mouth, then slowly shut it. Jack's reprimand was strongly reminiscent of those he himself used to inflict on balking midshipmen, during his Navy days. He should be ashamed to display any less fortitude than he'd demanded from his own subordinates.

Will, though somewhat shaken, spoke in a resigned voice. "It's a good thing Elizabeth didn't come with us."

Sparrow imagined for a moment, lips curling into an impish grin, before he shook it off. "Oh, yes. We can be thankful fer that."

xxx

As twilight approached, the three ersatz dancers were given a light dinner of roasted fish and plantains. Immediately after, the spear-bearing men led them to the village-side stream, to undress and bathe. James was grateful they were afforded partial privacy for this. He was less appreciative of the 'dance wear' they were presented with afterwards; short bark-cloth skirts, painted with zig-zag designs.

"I will thank you both to never breath a word about this, once we get back to civilization," James grumbled as he tugged the garment into place. At least it felt more comfortable than it looked.

"Oh no- not a word!" Jack assured, deftly wiggling into his own skirt.

Will, already dressed, paid no attention to the exchange. He was getting into the same focused mindset he'd always assumed for his fencing lessons- the best mental state he could think of to see him through this.

The three were then escorted to the same wide white beach where their difficulties had ensued; no longer taboo, now that the dark of the moon was past. The island's central peak- a sharp volcanic crater- overlooked this stretch of sand, as though it were indeed watching over the procedures. Jack gave it a friendly wave. "Good evenin', yer Ladyship. Hope you enjoy the show!"

The setting sun stained the western horizon rose and saffron, as the three were led to the water's edge, where several large piles of firewood had been arranged to mark off a large triangular area. "Our performance stage, gents," stated Jack.

A trio of serious young women in longer bark skirts approached, bearing half-shells full of fragrant coconut oil, and proceeded to anoint the men. Jack grinned appreciatively. Will was uneasy but curious. Norrington kept himself rigidly stoic, as though preparing for interrogation under torture. At least the girl rubbing oil into his arms and chest was doing so in a detached manner.

"Is this preparation for barbecuing us, Sparrow?" he asked archly.

"No James, it's to improve our looks. 'Tis a Command Performance, after all."

The tall priestess approached to speak with Jack, and Will optimistically noted the change in her manner, from scolding taskmistress to matter-of-fact instructor. The three female attendants, upon completing their anointments, set down their shells and moved to the middle of the marked triangle.

Sparrow nodded understanding, before turning to his shipmates. "Listen up, lads; those three wenches are about ta give us a demonstration on the proper way to please a volcano. When our turn comes, we'll be required ta do somethin' similar, so pay attention."

The girls stood back to back, arms raised and intertwined. Sparrow hadn't mentioned there would be touching involved, Norrington noted sourly. Somewhere up the beach, several deep-toned drums began to play a four-four beat at medium speed- the starting signal. James had a more agreeable surprise when the women stepped away from each other and began dancing, each in her own manner. Their movements were skilled, graceful and strong, like a roughhewn ballet. Not at all the heathenish bacchanalia he'd been expecting.

"Theer doing a depiction of the volcano's forming, and periodic burning, of this island. Luckily, that allows fer a lot of variation," Jack explained. "They'll be repeatin' cycles of creation an' destruction several times, until the drum beat quickens. See that one shorter lass, waving fingers ta imitate the growth of trees? She represents the volcano's peak. Since I speak the local language, I've been assigned that role. You two'll be my backup."

"Probably at your own request," Norrington grumbled. The pirate was truly outrageous, vying to be the center of attention even in a situation like this.

"James, do try to show more enthusiasm when we get in there. We're supposed ta be makin' an offerin' fit fer a goddess- any draggin' of feet could land us right back inta that hut!"

"Shhh!" Will complained. He was studying the dancers as intently as he would a fencing instructor. Fortunately, some of the footwork was similar; nimble side-to-side, to-and-fro stepping. Even certain of the darting arm movements, representing surf pounding the shore, bore resemblance to clashing blades.

The priestess gave another instruction, which Jack passed on. "This last part is somethin' we'll have ta copy fer our own coda. Reproducing the volcano's shape is the standard closing for any dance done in tribute to Her Ladyship."

The drumming suddenly accelerated. As they watched, the shortest dancer pirouetted back to the starting point, closely followed by the others. The two taller girls grasped the other just below the hips and lifted her high, as she raised one arm straight overhead, providing a sharp point for their triangle. The three held the poise for several seconds, until the drumming suddenly stopped. Then the girls broke formation and casually strolled off.

Will's jaw was set with concentration as he watched them leave. Jack rubbed his hands with anticipation. "We're up next! An' look- here comes our adoring public!"

Norrington was aghast to see about a hundred people approach, hunkering down on the now-darkened beach beside their 'stage'. "You didn't mention everyone was going to turn out to witness this humiliation!"

"Not everyone, James, just the adult women. Remember, it's a goddess we've makin' amends to, so this is a female affair. I didn't want ta tell you ahead of time, fer fear it'd aggravate yer stage fright."

Another girl with a flaming torch raced around the triangle, setting each of the wood piles ablaze. The crowd of black-tressed women, as could now be seen, chatted and leaned forward, eager for the spectacle. The priestess stepped behind the three men and uttered one sharp word- clearly a command to get started.

Will, resolved, lifted his chin. "Let's go."

"That's the spirit, William!" Jack placed hands on both his shipmates' shoulders and guided them to the center of the fire-lit area, as the audience murmured with interest. "Back to back now, gents."

Remembering the starting position, the three raised oiled arms, entwining them rather clumsily. Jack reminded, "When the drums start, begin imitating a volcano as best you can. Follow my lead if you haveta. An' remember; when the tempo speeds up, we move to the center and assume the closing position. Try ta enjoy yerselves!"

James was on the verge of making a snide remark- about how the pirate would try to enjoy himself even on the gallows- when the first beating of the drum sounded. Will and Jack broke away, and Norrington stumbled forward, at a loss about what to do next. How the devil did one imitate a volcano?

Circling- that's what some of girls had done. He began turning, hoping it looked sufficiently dance-like, taking fast glances at the other two. Jack was in his element, of course- hurrying about half-bent, hands fluttering like a bird in flight. Will had assumed something like a fencing stance, parrying gracefully with an invisible opponent. James began turning more widely, when Jack swooped past him.

"More movement, Jamie- yer too stiff!" he warned before whirling off.

"Don't call me that!" Norrington hissed back. But he took heed. More movement- their escape depended on it. Recalling his dance-class days, James tried doing the fast steps of an allemande, making his way along the edge of their stage. He told himself he was a lava flow intent on destruction- an easy mood to slip into, given his annoyance with the situation.

The next time Sparrow ventured near, James wheeled and swept straight at him. Though startled, the lissome pirate artfully dodged from his path, giving him an approving glance in passing. A feral smirk curved James' lips. Feeling dangerous, he lifted one leg and turned on the other, sinking to one knee like a stalking panther. Dance-school moves, executed as though for lethal effect- that was an adjustment he could make.

Will was finding it useful to regard this as a somewhat-less-disciplined fencing practice. He broadly maneuvered a pretend sword, imagining he was directing great flows of melted rock to build up an island's base, churning his other arm overhead to denote steam breaking the surface. When Jack or James crossed his line of direction, he made to fight them off, as a growing island must deflect ocean waves. He quickly decided Jack, who cheerfully flicked in and out of range, was everyday surf, whilst the glowering James was rarer and more powerful storm surf. With skilled footwork, and arm motions quick as pyroclastic flows, he managed to drive them back, sometimes both at a time. Actually enjoying himself.

Jack, more than his shipmates, moved according to whim. Combining dance moves learned in a dozen different ports, sometimes inventing his own, ever mindful of the audiences' exclaimed approval. He flashed a grin in their direction, golden as lava at night. Next, a move he hadn't attempted since his last trip to Persia; bending backwards while spinning. He didn't come out of it quite as gracefully as he'd planned, but the viewers didn't mind, apparently taking the frantic arm-flailing for part of the maneuver. Even the critically watching priestess seemed pleased. Emboldened, Jack segued into a leaping turn with a step-out, then grape-stepping, a backbend and a hip twirl. All appreciated. How could he ever have forgotten how wonderful it felt to move whatever way he wanted to?

An unexpected change was taking place in James' mind- something unprecedented in his adult experience. Primal forces were rising in him, in response to his ever-less-inhibited movements, clouding judgment and restraint. 'Follow my lead', Jack had said- James found he was, mentally as well as physically. Possessed by this elemental urge to move, fast and lethal, constrained only by the pounding rhythm of the drums.

/ _Barbarism!_ / some part of his mind protested. / _Freedom!_ / another part countered, as he stepped and lunged ever more wildly.

Will barely evaded a hard collision with Norrington, but it caused him no anxiety. He, too, was experiencing something unprecedented- never in his life had he felt so swift and formidable, so competent to deal with any and every threat. Invincible- yes! Will slashed and feinted and lunged, seeing and feeling his own flashing blade as clearly as if he actually held it. He felt ready to challenge the best swordsmen on earth!

Only a few times before had Jack felt quite so alive, so energized, darting in every direction at once. He swayed, leapt high, turned in midair, arms carving wide circles, heels beating into the sand. His freed skin glowed hot and amber between his tattoos, his dreadlocks lashed like seaweed in a raging tide. When the drum rhythm sped up, it took full seconds for the meaning to penetrate the consuming joy of motion- but then his survival instincts sprang to the fore.

Suddenly cold-minded, he spun to center stage, raised his right arm, his eyes depthless and stern.

"Will And James! TO ME!"

No less-imperious tone could have penetrated James' predatory rapture, or Will's delighted frenzy. They both paused, turned to behold Jack, looking more erect and commanding than they'd ever seen him before. And they remembered. They must complete the coda of this tribute!

The two- Primal Warrior and Pure Swordsman- rushed obediently to their Pirate Captain. They grasped and hoisted him high, to personify the apex of the divine mountain they honored. Jack was fully into the role- realized everything he was worth. His magnanimous gaze dropped, meeting James' amazed one- the navyman had never seen Jack Sparrow in quite this light before. Will, suddenly sagging from his exertions, let his head droop under the weight of Jack's hand on his temple, but he was aware of it too. This euphoric dance had achieved a transfiguring effect, awakening elements in each that none had suspected, of themselves or each other.

The fast drums stopped- the interval was over.

Jack was lowered back to the earth. A chorus of rattling 'tongue yelps'- the islanders' applause- arose from the exuberant women. It was only then that Norrington noticed something.

"Sparrow, where is your skirt?"

"Shed it somewhere along the way," Jack panted, unconcerned. James realized he wasn't either.

It was Will, spotting the missing garment beside one of the fires, who scooped it up and handed it back to it's owner. As he replaced it, Jack smirked suggestively towards their noisily appreciative audience. "Don't imagine I'll be keepin' it on very long, though."

Will, still breathing hard, turned to James, his dark eyes aglow. "I really did have fun! I was... well... it seems ridiculous now, but at the time, I..."

James raised a hand. "I know exactly what you're trying to say, William." Norrington suspected that, by tomorrow, he'd be embarrassed about this- probably inclined to lock the whole thing away in the further recess of his memory. But at the moment, he was still too caught in the mood to mind. He was shedding reams of sweat, muscles aching in every limb, and feeling great.

Jack blew a magnanimous kiss towards the sharp volcanic peak. "I hope that was up to your expectations, darlin'." He knew that hope was fulfilled, when he looked to the priestess. For the first time since their initial encounter, she was actually smiling.

xxx

The next morning found the three ex-captives on the same beach, back in their shipboard clothes, bidding farewell to a long line of well-wishers. Jack planted affectionate kisses on woman after woman.

"Goodbye to you, Swsparanow, me luv! And to darlin' Dermonpowkey, and me dear Kremankochdant! An... Oh. All honor to you, Madame Juswatench," he declared, sans kiss, when he reached the tall priestess. That feathered lady was back into her unsmiling august persona, but she did give him a not-unfriendly nod.

Norrington climbed into the stern of their half-awash longboat, fidgeting to be underway. As anticipated, he already felt a bit uncomfortable about last night's experience.

Will, having secured the last of the water casks and fruit bundles, couldn't suppress an amused little smile at the two of them. "Jack, we can't wait much longer- the tide's going out."

Sparrow hastily planted a few more kisses, then signaled for the boat to be pushed into the water. As numerous hands obliged, he and Will jumped aboard, the latter taking the oars. Jack continued to wave his hat towards the crowd on the beach, until they were well clear the the surf zone.

Will turned the craft starboard, heading towards the island's distant rocky end, where the _Black Pearl_ awaited in a hidden cove. Jack appreciatively eyed the striking volcanic peak. "This really is quite a beautiful place. We must come back here sometime."

"At the moment, we should be planning what to tell the crew, to explain why our simple water-fetching expedition kept us out all night."

Jack feigned indignation. "Why, James Norrington, are you proposing we should lie about it?"

"I didn't say 'lie.' But they don't need to know everything."

Will was nodding. "I'm not at all sure I want to tell Elizabeth I performed before a crowd of unfamiliar women, dressed the way we were."

"Or weren't," Sparrow added mischievously. Getting serious, he thoughtfully fingered a chin braid. "How about this: we'll say we had an unexpected encounter with the natives, who insisted we stay to participate in one of their rituals. If asked for details, we'll simply explain they built some fires on the beach an' we danced. That's certainly the truth." Jack gave a last awed look towards the peak, before it vanished behind a headland.

"We did indeed," Norrington answered slowly, his gaze distant. Maybe he wasn't anxious to bury that memory after all. James leaned forward to address Will in a low voice. "Jack is right. Someday, we should pay this island another visit."

"I agree. Only..." Will's mouth quirked as he took a hard pull on the oars, "... next time, we should definitely bring Elizabeth."

xxx

**FINIS**


End file.
